


In Another Fifteen Years (We'll Go Back To December)

by zephyryllis (SupernaturalMystery306)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Internet friendship), 15 years ago, Age Difference, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters that are just mentioned are not tagged, Dean and Cas were friends once upon a time, Eventual Relationships, He regrets it now, Hurt Dean Winchester, Insecurity, Lies, M/M, Probably nothing sexual tho, Promises, Regret, Then Cas lied about stuff, that's it i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalMystery306/pseuds/zephyryllis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 2000, when 22 year old Castiel Novak promised his friend that they would meet up fifteen years later, 14 year old Dean Winchester believed him.</p><p>It's 2015, and Castiel Novak is reading an article by Dean W., about how his friend from fifteen years ago lied to him. Really, it's not that hard to figure out that Dean is talking about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 27 December, 2015

**Author's Note:**

> I was told writing helps and I wrote stuff down and got carried away and then I was like, "DESTIEL" and a real life ranting turned into a Destiel ranting.
> 
> So, here we are.
> 
> One-third of the title is taken from the song Back To December. Although I haven't heard it, the lyrics are nice and kind of relate to this story.
> 
> Dean is supposed to be nerdy as a kid.
> 
> Um, enjoy.
> 
> This is unedited, please point out mistakes, if there are any. Comments, kudos and such are appreciated. :)

_27 December, 2015_

  *******

**" THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I HAVE TRUST ISSUES**  
\- Dean Winchester  
29 DECEMBER, 2000

_I met a guy on a social networking site. Don't ask which one._

_We talked for a few hours straight, and then we exchanged email addresses._

_Outside of the site, it was a bit awkward at first. I mean, I was fourteen and had a bad sense of humor, while he was a busy twenty-two year old studying to be something fancy. But I talked to him and he talked to me. He was nice to me. He actually acted like a friend. A friend who didn't judge me for once. And then he disappeared._

_I have a habit of overthinking things. And sometimes not thinking enough about something before going through with it._

_Perhaps I said something to him which hurt him. Or creeped him out. I don't know. And now he's been, for lack of a better word, ignoring me for the past six days. It's going to be a full week tomorrow._

_**I feel used.** _

_It always happens with me. I talk to someone, get attached to them, then get kicked (to the curb.) It's shitty._

_I feel like the stupidest, clingiest person ever._

_**Did he even mean anything he said?** _

_That's another problem. You never know how the other person is feeling when it comes to Internet friendships. You don't know if they're telling you the truth, if they trust you as much as you trust them. They might just be laughing at you, showing their friends the messages you send them, for all you know. They could be lying to you about even the smallest things, for all you know. They say they're tall, blond, etc. Perhaps they're tiny brunettes. Maybe they're even lying about whether they've seen their friends or not._

_Most of all- maybe they are looking for a funny distraction and you just happen to be there, providing it to them, by being yourself while they're wearing a bloody mask._

_Really, who can you even trust these days when even your closest friends judge you more than they love you?_

_It hurts especially when they compliment you. They say you're nice, great, sweet. They make you feel loved instead of feeling singled out, shunned._

_You start thinking of them as you think of people who surround you. You think that they're real faces in everyday life. (They are, they are, but they aren't supposed to give you the same joy that people you talk to every single day do. Yes, to some extent they should, but not so much that you start looking forward to their messages. You even wait for the messages.)_

_And then they walk all over your opinions._

_They remind you that once again, you've gone and let someone get close to you, and ultimately made a fool out of yourself._

_**I am insecure.** _

_I know this, and so do other people, unfortunately._

_I always feel like people are talking to me only till the time I'm providing my services to them. Once their work is done, they're going to leave._

_Sometimes they do that. Sometimes they don't._

_But the times they've done it has outnumbered the times they've stayed. It's stuck with me._

_I still help people out. But I don't expect them to do the same for me. Rather, I tell myself not to expect it._

_**I am a people pleaser.** _

_I get happiness from making others smile, as cheesy as that sounds. I don't like it when someone in need is left unattended to._

_So I offer to help people, even those who I don't like._

_It's not a case of being neglected as a child, or some other bullshit like that. I just like to help people because it reminds me that there are things I'm good at, and that there are people who will actually, if only for a second, appreciate me._

_**He said he was ugly when I said he was hot.** _

_He doesn't think too highly of himself, as far as I know. He let me see a few pictures of him from social media and when I complimented him he seemed surprised. He laughed, and said that he was ugly. "But thanks, anyway."_

_He asked for a photo from me. He asked thrice. I gave him three. He said I was cute. In a completely platonic way._

_I know it was platonic, but really, people think I'm ugly. I think I'm ugly._

_Two guys from my class were once "rating" people's looks. One of them turned to me, looked at me and said, "Dean looks nice."_  
_And then, "Like, personality-wise."_  
_I didn't reply._

_The only people who think I'm good looking are my family._

_And that's why when I was called cute I felt grateful._

_All my photos are shitty, but apparently I was cute._

_He even said it was ‘adorable’ when I was fanboying (definitely not fangirling) over my fandoms._

_Really, he was very nice._

_Getting compliments is nice. Getting 'sincere' compliments is nicer._

_**I think I became a bit dependent on him. Just a bit.** _

_I expect uniformity. People who reply within or about a week of sending messages, I expect them to keep doing that. I don't get bothered if they're replying five days or nine days later, because I know that eventually they'll get around to seeing my message._

_I know that the people who reply within one or two days of receiving a message, will reply within that time frame._

_But people who reply within ten minutes (maximum) of receiving my messages... they're supposed to reply at least once even if it's been twenty-four hours._

_The first few days we talked, about twelve messages were exchanged in the span of one hour. That is, it took us approximately five minutes to reply to each other. Then came one day, when he took about thirty minutes to respond. I was a bit worried, and like any teenage boy- I am not a goddamned girl\- getting attention, felt a bit stood up. The next day, I was in school, and I couldn't wait to go home and talk to him. I replied to his message from the previous night after getting home. And I waited._

_He never replied._

_**I was scared.** _

_Just a few days ago we had joked that we would meet fifteen years later and that we won't forget each other and now, here I was, realizing that it was a lie. A bloody joke to him._

_**I was a joke.** _

_On Christmas day, I asked him if I had somehow, unknowingly hurt him. I requested him to reply and let me just rest, because I hate feeling guilty. I asked him if he was just busy or if he didn't want to talk anymore._

_I had a draft of an unsent message. It was kind of angry, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings if he had really just been busy. I didn't send it to him because I was scared._

_It's been four days since then, and he hasn't replied._

_I am giving up on him._

_I thought only people you see every day are supposed to be able to have that much power over you?_

_Apparently not._

_Well._

_**I don't even care anymore.** _

_He doesn't want to talk to me? Fine, I'll just pretend I never knew him. It's not like I wasn't able to live before I knew him. Let it go back to how it was before I knew him._

_But this, my friends, is exactly why I have trust issues."_

Dean Winchester looks up from the article he has been reading, and bursts out laughing.

" _Jesus_ , this sounds like I was in love with the guy. No, I can swear that I wasn't. Also, damn, how _stilted_ is this shit? And don't even get me started on those tenses. Really, I wasn't even into writing at that time. All I remember is that my friend Charlie forced me to write this after I told her about the incident. Still can't believe they published it...." He says after he's able to control his laughing fit, trailing off.

"But that, my friends, is exactly why I have trust issues." And he starts laughing again.

He still snorts from time to time, but answers the questions the interviewer asks him. They're mainly about his upcoming book release.

*******

Castiel rubs his forehead, headache creeping in steadily. He has been going through Youtube videos for the past thirty minutes, and when he had come across the name, "Dean W. talks about The Last Turn, shares old article," he had squinted at the screen. _Dean W_. It had sounded familiar.

He had clicked on the link and watched the video.

He regrets it now, because not only has he recognized the man, he also knows the person who Dean talked about in that article.

It's him.

Castiel is the one who Dean was talking about.

Castiel had promised him that they would meet in fifteen years.

And now, looking at twenty nine year old Dean Winchester, famous author of teenage fiction addressing psychological issues, talking about _him_ , there's nothing Castiel Novak regrets more than lying to that fourteen year old boy, in the December of 2000.


	2. 18 December, 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... he had just bonded with someone over music and other stuff?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'd like to thank everyone for the warm reception that this story got. Certainly better than I expected. :) Thank you everyone, who subscribed, bookmarked, kudo-ed, and everything else. :)
> 
> AutumnSwitch, thank you, your concern was very touching. :) As I already said, I'm going to edit all "personal" incidents, so what I'm going to write from now on in this story is most definitely fiction.  
> sars, thank you very much for following me on tumblr (I'm about 90% sure that it was you, but if I'm wrong, then sorry :P). That was very sweet of you, and not at all expected or necessary.
> 
> Happy New Year in advance! :D (It's still December 31, 2015 over here.) Have a brilliant 2016! ...Or try to. :P  
>  ~~Also, tomorrow's (Jan 1) my birthday and you all have to wish me. Lol, you don't have to, but I'd like it if you did. :P~~
> 
> Updates won't come this soon again. I was just free today, so I wrote this.
> 
> IMPORTANT: Castiel's messages are in bold, Dean's are in italics. The same distinction will be used in the following chapters, although I will mention it at the start of every chapter.

_18 December, 2000_

Dean was bored.

He had to go to school tomorrow for some bullshit event, and not for regular studies, so he didn't have to rush and do homework. It was five o'clock in the evening, so he was basically free for about three-four hours.

Couldn't let Mom know that though. She'd smack him all the way to Africa. Certainly couldn't let Sammy know. Little tattletale would run off to complain to Mom.

So he opened his laptop, trying to appear occupied.

After five minutes, he was still bored. He wasn't in the mood for IM-ing Jo at the moment. Don't get him wrong, that girl was like his little sister and he loved her, but he needed to just talk about random stuff. Knowing Jo, it would probably end up as a rag-on-Dean campaign. And she would probably be helping her mom with errands. Benny was busy, and so was Charlie.

He tried searching for some funny videos, but they were too generic. Way too generic to be wasting time on.

He wished Charlie wasn't busy right now, and immediately felt guilty. It wasn't his friends' fault that he didn't have a life of his own.

Speaking of Charlie, though...

He remembered something she had told him.

Biting his lip, he opened up the browser and typed into the address bar. After debating on whether or not he wanted to go through with it, he told himself to stop being a pansy and pressed the enter key.

Omegle.com had been opened.

He typed in Metallica as his interest.

Well, if he had to talk to a total stranger about something, at least he'd talk about something he liked.

He waited.

** -Omegle couldn't find anyone who shares interests with you, so this stranger is completely random. Try adding more interests!- **

Oh wow. So no one shared his love for good music? Just fucking wow.

Still, this stranger might be okay otherwise.

Dean, being the geek that he was, decided to talk about Narnia.

_Prince Caspian is hot as fuck_

Because he wasn't gonna not make this fun. At least for himself.

The message " _Stranger has disconnected._ " greeted him.

Okay. Well, not everyone liked Narnia. Maybe the person didn't even know who Caspian was.

He tried again. He had the same result.

After the third time, it actually became a game. He would type in praises about Prince Caspian (Charlie would be proud that he let out his fanboy side), and the other person would disconnect.

He wasn't so fast the sixth time.

The stranger talked first.

**Hello.**

Dean stared. Oh crap, was he supposed to engage in a polite conversation now? Was it too late to scream-type 'Caspy is hot as hell'?

It was, so he decided to reply with a 'hi.'

The next message came soon enough (and damn, this website was fast.)

**m**

M?? What was m?

He asked.

**My gender. I'm a male. 'm' signifies that a person is male, while 'f' signifies that it is a female. If I'm not wrong, this is your first time here?**

Dude had nice grammar. Dean liked that in people. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought.

_Yeah, it is my first time. How did you know? And I'm a dude, so 'm' I guess._

**It was easy to figure out. This website uses the system of m/f between people. So, it's your first time here. In that case, I am Castiel, nice to meet you.**

Dean snorted. It sounded like the guy was saying that the website used the system of 'motherfucker' between people. Which was kind of gross, now that he thought about it.

_Castiel? That's a nice name. What does it mean? And I guess it's cool that I didn't start chatting about a guy called Caspian since, you know, your name and his name both have 'Cas'? (people have disconnected about five times just because I was talking about him) You name sounds better though. ;)_

Dean's face turned red. Why the heck had the added the last part? And the wink?

The response put him to ease though. It sounded formal, but it was friendly enough.

**Thank you. It is an uncommon name, and people mess it up at times, but I'm quite fond of it. I am named after the angel of Thursday. Caspian? From The Chronicles of Narnia? Oh yes, both our names have 'Cas' in them. You may call me that.**

Dude knew what Narnia was? Damn, Charlie would be proud of this one.

_Ok Cas._

_hey, are you 16?_

**Not at all. I'm 22 years old**

_Seriously? Damn. I once asked someone if they were 22 and they said that they were sixteen. And now I've asked you if you're sixteen and you're 22. I guess I'm just bad with ages of people from the Internet._

That was true. Dean may be new to this 'Omegle' website, but he _did_ have experience with other websites. Maybe he should just have talked to people from those 'other websites.' Sadly, they weren't available at his beck and call.

**Oh, well, that is strange, ha ha.**

'Ha ha'? Kill him now. He was used to 'haha,' not the oh so prim 'ha ha.' Still, it's not like there was any skin off his back, so Dean didn't comment on it.

_How is it strange?_

**I just meant that life is strange sometimes. What is your name?**

Was he going to do this? Yes, he was going to do this, he thought, as his fingers typed out the letters. He was going to give away his name to a total stranger.

_Dean._

**You have a nice name too.**

Dean didn't know what was so great about his name. It had something to do with valleys. Not something a person would find terribly cool.

_Thanks..._

**So, where are you from?**

Seriously? The guy wasn't expecting Dean to tell the truth was he? He decided to give a vague answer.

_U.S. And you? Ukraine or Poland or something?_

**Russia. But you were close. :)**

_Well it seems that I'm bad with guessing everything. But yeah, close enough :P_

**True.**

And there it was. That awkward lull in the conversation.

Dean hated when this happened. Even in real life, after talking to him for about five minutes, people would just smile and walk away. It was annoying, especially because he loved talking to people.

_So, what "interest" did you type in, which got you no results and as a result, me?_

**I was trying to connect with someone who had the same music tastes as I do.**

**What about you?**

So maybe people from this website weren't fans of music in general?

_Oh, same. I typed Metallica and didn't get any fellow fan to talk to. What kind of music were you looking for?_

**Classical music**

_Ew._

That one word did not do justice to the expression Dean had on his face.

**Not 'ew.' I don't just like classical music, I like other things too. But I wanted to relax, and that was the first thing that came to mind. Classical music is relaxing. And nice. Although I feel that you don't believe that.**

_You're right. I don't believe that at all._

**Well that's sad, because I like metal.**

_DUDE. Metal. Can you believe how many people judge me because of that? They're like, "metal? ugh." Even my friends. And a few days ago this chick from my class asked me what my favorite songs were and when I told her she fake barfed._

**That wasn't nice of her at all. People shouldn't judge anyone, especially over something so minute as music tastes.**

_Is that a jab at me? Not that subtle. But you're right._

**Maybe. ;)**

Okay, so ‘Castiel’ winked too. So winks were okay, right?

_You play any instruments?_

**I play the piano.**

**And violin. You?**

Dean snorted. He wasn't going to call those instruments _girly_ , but they were too _delicate._

_you sure you're not some classic music buff? 'cause I'm getting that vibe xD_

**Yes Dean, the music I like is classic. :P**

_Ah fuck, no, I meant classical. I typed classic by mistake. Come on dude! And I can play guitar._

_But do you sing?_

**My voice is too... low, I supposed? for me to sing. I believe a friend once described it as me 'gargling with rocks.'**

**And do you sing?**

So he had a deep voice. Must be hot.

No. No. He meant cool. Must be cool.

Dean was suddenly reminded of Cassie Robinson. The girl he had, very stupidly, liked for about five months before finding out she had been dating one of the seniors.

Cassie. Castiel. 'Cas.'

...Oops?

**Dean? Are you still here?**

Realizing that he had probably delayed the conversation by that weird logic, he replied.

_I sing. But people hate it when I do. Don't know why they do. I mean, I'm not as bad as some people. But, you know, "Dean, for the love of god, SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!"_

**Well if they say so, then you should just keep practicing, maybe.**

_Shut up. :P y'know, I find it funny that we're bonding over music._

Like all good things went bad for Dean, doubt crept up inside his head.

_Hey, dude? I'm not wasting your time am I?_

**Oh no, of course not. I'm free right now. Relaxing, didn't I tell you?**

**And why is it funny? it's a good thing.**

Dean sighed, relieved.

_Okay. No, not funny-funny, but, unusual-funny._

**We can talk about something else too Dean. We don't just need to restrict ourselves to music.**

And that was the message that led to them talking till eight o'clock, when his mother called him down to dinner.

_Hey Cas? I actually gotta go eat dinner now...._

**Well, would you mind if we kept in contact after today?**

A smile broke out on Dean's face. He was hoping for this. Castiel was nice, and didn't judge him even when he talked about the most ridiculous things.

_Sure man! I was hoping you'd offer ;) deanmichael0124@gmail.com Can't give out other personal details, sorry._

Guy didn't have to know that was his fake email id. Dean was still a bit apprehensive about this talking-to-strangers thing.

**Oh, email? I was hoping we could talk on some social networking site.**

_can't, sorry._

**It's alright. I understand. Well, if you ever change your mind, then you can find me on Facebook. My full name is Castiel Novak.**

**Goodnight, Dean! Have a nice day tomorrow, in school. We can talk through email.**

_Yea, not too sure about having a good day while being in school, but thanks. :D Goodnight to you too_

**More like good morning. It's five in the morning**

_WTF CAS. Why weren't you sleeping?!_

**Oh, I didn't feel like it. Also, I think it was a much better decision to talk to you than to sleep.**

_Yeah yeah whatever. :D Bye now. :D_

** -You have disconnected- **

So... he had just bonded with someone over music and other stuff?

Well, a lot of 'other stuff.'

There's a first for everything, apparently.

Dean shut down his laptop, before making his way downstairs.

He slept that night happily, excited to wake up the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point out mistakes, if there were any (this is unedited.)
> 
> Lol, it's 8:45 P.M. and I seriously need to go eat. XP
> 
> I researched "anonymous chat sites" and... Omegle seemed the easiest choice? I still don't know if it was the right one to choose because according to my sibling it's a place to flirt? :') Although, I played around with the spy question mode later, and witnessed some of the most hilarious conversations ever.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to have about five to seven chapters, not much.
> 
> This is something that I've seen happen personally, and it seems very stupid, but every word is true. Not saying that anyone is insensitive, but please don't make a joke out of whatever is written.
> 
> Although, incidents are edited since it has to be Destiel after all.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://fancythingsandgossamerwings.tumblr.com).


End file.
